


vulnerable

by novoaa1



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Episode Tag: s04e17 Demonology, F/F, Fluff, Light Angst, POV Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Sleepy Cuddles, this is set throughout and right after that episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:47:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27834022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novoaa1/pseuds/novoaa1
Summary: “Is Emily okay?”It’s one of the first things JJ asks when Hotch informs them of Matthew Benton’s death.She doesn’t ask, “How did she look when you saw her?”, “Where is she now?”... “Why didn’t shetellme?” But oh, how she wants to.
Relationships: Jennifer "JJ" Jareau & Emily Prentiss, Jennifer "JJ" Jareau/Emily Prentiss
Comments: 5
Kudos: 95





	vulnerable

**Author's Note:**

> currently rewatching some criminal minds 
> 
> saw demonology and was like 'bet we could write something for this' 
> 
> didn't wanna spend too much time on this because i've got other wips but

“Is Emily okay?”

It’s one of the first things JJ asks when Hotch informs them of Matthew Benton’s death. 

She doesn’t ask, “How did she look when you saw her?”, “Where is she now?”... “Why didn’t she _tell_ me?” But oh, how she wants to. 

Hotch doesn’t really answer the question, just sort of sidesteps it and shifts the directive over to a common objective—interviewing Matthew Benton’s parents, then touching base with Morgan and Emily later about their findings down at the coroner’s office. Above all else, treat it like any other investigation—with tact and objectivity. 

JJ knows she couldn’t have expected any different, but the non-answer frustrates her all the same. 

Not only that, but she’s bothered with herself, too. It’s not fair that one of her initial thoughts is to question why Emily wouldn’t tell her first, as if Emily owes that to her. As if Emily owes _anything_ to her. 

They pick up Father Paul Silvano from the hospital, bring him in for interrogation. Emily goes solo on that one, even if anyone with half a brain should’ve been able to tell that that was a bad idea. JJ watches the tapes later. Emily damn near unravels on the spot, and no one makes a single move to stop her. It’s almost a relief when Hotch enters to inform Father Silvano he’s free to go, thereby successfully halting the “interrogation” before it can get any worse.

The State Department starts blowing up JJ’s phone. Hotch’s, too. Push comes to shove, and they get thrown off the case (not that they were ever on it to begin with). Emily’s told under no uncertain terms that she needs to back off, but no one’s really surprised when she doesn’t.

Turns out, her instincts are right. (Not that that’s surprising in any way.) John Cooley damn near dies, but Emily and Morgan are there to stop that from happening. Father Silvano gets a ticket for the first plane back to Italy, the hospital issues Emily’s friend a clean bill of health, and maybe two people (friends of Emily, no less) are dead, but the case is closed. 

The case is closed, not cold, and JJ’s been doing this job long enough to know that that’s no small thing. 

She goes home early that night, puts Henry to sleep with a story and a kiss before curling up on the couch with two tall stacks of case files and a bottle of Merlot blanc. She doesn’t sneak glances over at her cell phone, waiting for Emily to call. She doesn’t pace back and forth debating endlessly over whether or not she’s the one who should give _Emily_ a call. 

A knock comes late at her door, quarter to midnight, and she hates herself for immediately thinking it’s Emily. 

She doesn’t know who else it would be, but the facts remain that it is late, she is not expecting anyone, and in her line of work, one can never be too too careful. She stops to grab her Glock from the safe before going over to the door, uncovering the peephole and peering through. 

The moment she lays her sights upon a forlorn Emily on her doorstep, covered in flakes of snow and bleeding from her nose, all misgivings flee from her thoughts. 

She shoves the gun in the back of her jeans, flings the door open. The gust of frosty winter air that blows in is bone-chilling, but she does not care. “Emily!”

Emily doesn’t meet her eyes. “Can I… Can I come in?”

“Of course, Em.” JJ immediately steps to the side, offers out a hand. “Always.”

— —

Later that night (or technically the wee hours of next morning) finds JJ sitting cross-legged in bed with her case files, another glass of wine, and Emily’s head in her lap.

She writes notes with one hand, gently massages Emily’s scalp with the other. 

The light is low—soft and yellowy. Emily’s rhythmic exhales are warm against her skin, the occasional shiver racks her body (though the room is far from cold), and JJ is positive she’s never been allowed to see her so vulnerable before. 

It’s a gift—nothing more, nothing less. 3:00am hits and Emily starts letting out these little sounds on every exhale that aren’t snores but aren’t _not_ snores, and JJ thinks her heart might just burst in her chest from how much she _feels_ for Emily in that moment. 

JJ doesn’t go to sleep that night, doesn’t dare move for fear of waking her. 

Emily sleeps soundly through the rest of the night. 

— —

**Author's Note:**

> thoughts?


End file.
